The Assistant (Lesbian Story) ON HOLD

Pervert

It's a quarter past ten when you hear a knock on your door.

Your heart starts to race a little and your hands begin to feel sweaty.

Without even having to open the door you know it's Margot. Her constant changes in her demeanor make it hard for you to get a good read on her but you keep in mind what Cindy had told you earlier that Margot was notorious for saying harsh things and going through men as fast as she did clothes.

You hadn't eaten because you were unaware of what activities the night would hold and you didn't want to end up vomiting. You didn't even know when she would show up so you had changed not too long after you got home. It was a little pathetic, but you wanted to impress your new boss. Having her show up when you weren't ready to go would have not been a good start.

You're already dressed in a short black dress that stops at mid thigh, with red heels and matching red lipstick, with your hair up in a high ponytail that makes your hair tickle the back of your neck when you walk.

You open the door and see Margot typing away on her phone.

Of course, you think.

She seems to be attached to her phone, but you expect that much since she's a busy, popular model.

She looks up and her hazel eyes look you up and down. You feel a little uncomfortable under her gaze.

She, as always, looks great. Her hair, unlike yours, is loose, letting her dark waves bounce around her shoulders. Her lips are pink and glossed, her eyelashes long and dark. She's wearing a sparkly gold dress that looks like a large T-shirt, however it still looks great. It ends around the same area where yours does. And to finish off her look, she's wearing tan lace up heels.

Finally, her eyes meet yours and you feel like you don't compare to her. The way she carries herself, the way she talks, acts, it all screams confidence and power.

She just radiates beauty.

You feel small in comparison. No one else has made you feel this way since you were a teenager. You shrug it off, and send her a smile.

"You look great," her smooth voice says as she cracks you a smile.

The fact that the woman in front of you who looks like an actual goddess said that to you makes feel better.

"Thank you," you say back, "You look fantastic."

You see her eyes looking around your apartment with a small smile playing at her lips. You're unsure of how to act around her considering she is your boss so you just watch her.

"So, this is your place," she observes, taking a few steps inside and running a hand against the brick wall, getting a feel for the texture.

You clear your throat a little, "Yeah, I haven't lived here long."

She walks around a little more, running her hand along your sofa that you had gotten on a sale for a great price.

"I like it," she says still looking around.

She turns to you, "It's cute, has a real...homey vibe to it."

You know what she means. That's why you had gotten the place. You had had an imagine in your head when you had gotten it; to decorate it in a way that would add warmth to the place depending on the texture and color of the furniture you would put in it.

"Thank you," you say.

She suddenly stops, your voice seeming to break her out of her still. Her hand moves quickly off the couch as if she caught herself doing something she shouldn't.